


Dunkelheit

by YuMe89



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Light Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-20
Updated: 2013-11-20
Packaged: 2018-01-02 04:25:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1052497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YuMe89/pseuds/YuMe89
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s suffocating him. He can’t breathe no matter how hard he tried. It’s so much worse than his panic attacks ever could be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dunkelheit

**Author's Note:**

> Hey!  
> This is my first very own fiction I wrote in the Teen Wolf fandom.  
> And it's also the first I wrote in english...
> 
> 'Dunkelheit' means Darkness in german.  
> I really hope you enjoy this story and that I didn't misspell too much :)  
> If I did, feel free to correct me ^.^

###  **Dunkelheit**

 

It’s suffocating him. He can’t breathe no matter how hard he tried. It’s so much worse than his panic attacks ever could be. Deaton didn’t tell them everything. ‘A darkness around your hearts’, doesn’t explain this drowning, like a pull from inside to his very core and everything around him goes black until it’s no more. Just when he gets used to the darkness, the visions start. It’s frightening and he never see’s enough to put together.

 

There are so much faces he doesn’t know, not directly he thinks. Sometimes they just stare at him. It’s unnerving. This pull doesn’t even start at night only…it happens in daylight too. In class, Lacrosse practice and even in his car. Once he loses it at his locker…the looks they gave him afterwards…

 

Lydia helped him pick up his books he seemed to have thrown out of his locker. She told him it looked like he wanted to crawl inside, which isn’t even possible, hence the looks. But he doesn’t regret it, his one on one with the Nemeton. He would do it again, if it means his dad is safe.

 

He researched every day, to finally find what exactly Deaton didn’t tell them, but comes up with nothing. Deaton is the only one who knows things about the Nemeton and doesn’t tell. Which isn’t good at all.

 

The darkness engulfs him again. There’s nothing, he can’t even see his own hands. Everything is black.

It still feels as if he’s running. He doesn’t know if he’s running to something or away from it.  
But he feels his lungs burning, even as his throat closes in. He tries to draw a much needed breath and suddenly there’s light.  
Not as bright as other times, just the light of the half moon above him and he knows where he is.

 

The Hale house in its whole beauty. Nothing charred, nothing broken. It looks a few years shy of new. He feels his heart pounding erratically in his chest. It hurts every thump. And knowing what is about to happen hurts even more. Just as he takes a tentative step forwards, the whole house explodes into a burning fire.

 

His skin prickles with the heat in front of him and he feels his hands pulling on his hair as he screams. “Wake up, wake UP, WAKE UP!”

 

His throat is raw and aches as he breathes in the smoke and heated air. “It’s just a dream…”, he says with a broken voice. He opens his eyes and looks at the broken and burned Hale house in front of him. It still feels like he’s in this nightmare. And sure enough it goes on. Derek walks out of the unhinged front door, looks straight at him.

 

It has to be one of his dreams, even if Derek never starred in one of his before, because Derek Hale fled Beacon Hills six month ago. He didn’t hear of him since then, not even a Goodbye as he went. Leaving a bunch of teenagers to deal with the aftermath. He should be angry at Derek, but he can kind of relate to his decision.

 

“It’s not real. Wake up. It’s just a dream, just a dream.”, he mumbles on as he backs away from Derek who approached him slowly. He knows from experience that even the people he knows in his dreams get violent and hurt him. Even his loved ones. People who would never touch him in such a manner. He doesn’t want to see how Derek slashes his throat…

 

He desperately tries to end this dream, but nothing happens. “Wake up, please…”, there are tears in his eyes and he blinks them away until they spill over. His back collides with one of the many trees behind him and he just stops and slides down, arms raised protective over his head.

 

He hears Dereks footsteps hesitate just two feet away from him and then go on. There’s a hand on his forearm. Not hurting, just warm and reassuring. “Stiles.”, he hears and sobs. They never talk. Usually everything is mute, even when they speak. He looks up and directly in Dereks concerned eyes. “What’s the matter with you? And don’t say you’re okay. You’re clearly not.”

 

He’s still crying without making any sound. It can’t be real, Derek never says such things. He mostly ignores situations like this. Derek crouches down and pulls carefully on Stiles arm and Stiles let it happen. He doesn’t know why, but Derek embraces him. He never thought it would feel so good, but he was so starved of the little touches. Not even his dad hugs him anymore. It takes him a minute to realize that it’s not a dream and that Derek hugs him for real.

 

It feels like opening a floodgate and he mildly attacks Derek as he hugs back. The two of them fall over and onto the soft ground of the woods. His hands cling to Derek’s leather jacket and he breathes him in. They have never been this close without being in danger and it feels so, so good.

 

“You’re back.”, he croaks in an unbelieving whisper, still not sure. “Yeah.”, confirms Derek softly. “You never said Goodbye though.” He’s not crying anymore, just sniffling and his voice is hoarse. “I couldn’t, I’m sorry.” “Why are you back?”, he asked and Derek laughed faintly. “Couldn’t stay away.”, is his answer and then there are soft lips brushing over his temple.

 

It’s weird how Derek’s presence makes everything so different. The darkness is still there, right around his heart and he feels it every day, hour, minute, second. But it doesn’t suffocate him anymore, doesn’t pull him towards this hole.

 

It’s like Derek is his light, anchoring him and he’s bright enough to show him the way through his own hell.

 

 


End file.
